


Indeed There Are Infinite Endings

by faerie_lights



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Destiel is canon, Episode 15x18: coda, Grief/Mourning, It feels so awesome to tag that, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27522220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerie_lights/pseuds/faerie_lights
Summary: Dean mourns the loss of Cas and regrets not being able to respond to his love confession. But all might not be lost. There might bc a way to get him back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70





	Indeed There Are Infinite Endings

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed and I’m posting it at 1:25 am. Talk about human disorder incarnate.

For a long time, Dean tells no one about how Castiel died. Oh he gives the basics. Made a deal with the Empty, cashed it in, saved the day. The things he choked out in explanation to Sam when he found him there sitting in the cold, dimly lit dungeon just feet from where he’d watched the Empty swallow Cas whole. He’d told those things. But the details? Those he keeps to himself. He keeps them so closely to himself that Sam and Jack are suspicious but they, in turn, keep those suspicions to themselves. They fight on against Chuck. Sam is smart and resourceful. Jack is powerful and earnest. Dean is... hollow. He fights. He plans with them and executes the plan they devise and in the end they win. Of course they win. There was no other option but to win. Sam devised a strategy. Jack burns out his power. And then everyone comes back. Eileen and Donna. Bobby. Charlie and her pretty girlfriend. Everyone but Cas. Dean watches as they pop back into existence, hoping. He hopes. For weeks it seems like every day they hear from someone. Jody and the girls. Garth and his wife. Those Ghostfacer guys. But not Cas. Never Cas. When Rowena finally contacts them he picks her brain a bit about the Empty but short of “I’ve got no sway there, dearie” he doesn’t get much in the way of answers. When the archangel wearing his little brother finally shows back up, he tries again but he gets even less from Michael than he did from Rowena. It’s where the angels go when they die. Ruled by a cosmic entity. No he doesn’t know anything more. No he doesn’t think anyone can escape it. Not without divine or demi-divine intervention and neither of those things exist anymore. There’s no god. No nephilim. Just a few angels slowly sputtering out. Cas is gone. 

As the weeks pass, the hollow feeling in Dean’s chest grows until he feels scooped out, empty. He hasn’t cried since he sat and sobbed in that dungeon still feeling the grip of Cas’s fingers on his arms, still wearing his bloody handprint. He hasn’t cried. Hasn’t laughed much either. Or talked or eaten or lived. Sam and Jack tiptoe around him, speaking to him in low, gentle voices as if loud words might break him. Maybe they’re right. Maybe they will but the kind, soft ones are worse because they’re too much like the things he said. Life moves on. He stays still. And then one day Sam comes to his room, shuts the door behind him and sits down in the chair at his desk. Dean looks at him with dull eyes. 

“Talk to me,” Sam cajoles. “Tell me.”

So he does. He opens his mouth and it all comes pouring out. What kind of deal Cas made. The things he said about Dean. What he confessed. How Dean can still see that rippling inky dark creep across his proud, teary, smiling face. How he sees it every time he closes his eyes and then again when he opens them. How he’ll never stop seeing it. 

Sam listens in horror and sorrow as Dean tells him everything, everything, every last detail. And when Dean is finished he looks at his brother with his face full of broken despair and Sam pulls him into his arms just as the first sob wrenches it’s way from his chest. He gasps and shakes and his brother holds him through the entire onslaught, a stalwart buttress as always. Eventually Dean runs dry and Sam turns him loose and asks the question Dean knows is coming and dreads. 

“Have you tried praying to him?” Sam’s got those trademarked puppy eyes fixed on him and Dean has to look away because he can’t lie to those eyes. 

“Yes.” 

Sam nods and there’s a firming of his jaw that Dean knows means he’s starting to plan. He sighs. He knows he can’t stop him but he can’t help either. He’s tried. He’s looked through the books and the internet and the archives and there’s nothing. But he’ll let Sam try just like hel let him believe that he’s tried praying to Cas. He hasn’t. He knows it’s futile because the last time Cas was in the Empty he prayed to him for hours, days, weeks and nothing. And now he can’t bear to go through that again. He knows now. He’s lost his chance. He nods goodbye to Sam as he marches out of the room pulled tall with purpose. Dean rolls over and goes back to sleep. He doesn’t pray to Cas. 

Sam spends the next few months researching and reading. Then one day he returns to Dean’s room. 

“I’ve found a way into the Empty.” Seven words that bore straight through Dean’s rib cage to settle directly in his heart. He actually gasps and stares at Sam in confusion. 

“There’s no way. I looked. I talked to Rowena and Michael. I looked.” His eyes grow wide and panicked and a tiny tendril of hope starts to flicker in him again. Has he been wrong? Did he give up to quickly? 

“No, you’re right. You wouldn’t have found this. Because I invented it. With a little help from Rowena. And Michael.” Dean sits up on the bed, heart starting to pound wildly. Sam continues pulling out a glowing vial and twirling it in his fingers, “Here’s what we’re gonna do. This is some of Michael’s grace. You’re gonna take this and then you’re gonna pull that goddam stunt of yours one last time. We’re gonna stop your heart and hope the death plus grace is enough to fool the Empty into snatching you up.”

Dean takes the vial gingerly and stares at it. Could this work? Is there a chance? 

“Won’t I just be asleep in the Empty?” He shakes his head. “How will that help?” 

“We think the fact that you’re not actually an angel or demon will keep you from being put to sleep. Once you’re there, you’ll have to try to find Cas. I don’t know how but this is the best idea I’ve got. It’s the only idea. And truthfully I kind of hate it. But if there’s a chance, Dean…. I know what Cas means to you. I mean I love him too. He’s family but… I know…” Dean looks away as Sam trails off and then clears his throat. “So whaddya think? It’s up to you, Dean. You’re the one who has to pull it off.”

Dean looks at the bottle glowing brightly in his palm and closes his hand around it. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Ten minutes later they are setting up in the infirmary, Sam prattling on about the plan, how it’s going to work, the logistics, the time frame, the method.

“So this will stop your heart and this is adrenaline and that’ll restart it. You’ll only have about five minutes here. I don’t know how long that translates to in the Empty but I’m not risking any more than five minutes”

Dean nods along almost absently. If there’s one thing he’s not a rookie at it’s dying and coming back. He has faith Sam will manage that part of it and do he lets Sam’s narration of the situation wash over him, his voice a comforting buzz in the background. The forefront of his mind is occupied with one thought alone. What will he say to Cas if he can find him? 

Sam has a tray set up now and he nods for Dean to get up on the bed. Still clutching the vial of borrowed grace Dean does. His mind is spinning wildly and he’s grateful that Sam seems to understand that he can’t direct this. Right now he can only follow Sam’s instructions and hang his heart on this tiny precious sliver of hope contained in vial and syringe. 

“Alright, Dean, you go ahead and take the grace and then I’ll... ah… do the…” Sam trails off gesturing vaguely to the tray where the prepared syringes sit, filled with death and life and suddenly Dean realizes what executing this plan is costing Sam. 

“Thanks, Sam,” he manages, gruffly. “I…. Thanks. Here goes nothing.” He unscrews the vial and tips it toward his mouth, inhaling the stream of light that drifts toward him. He can feel the light start to make its way through his body infusing him with grace. His eyes catch Sam’s and he nods. 

“I’m ready.” 

Sam places a trembling hand on his forehead and turns his head baring his neck. Dean feels the prick of the needle and hears Sam whisper “Good luck.” 

And then everything goes dark. 

At first a sense of panic starts to rise in him. This dark is like nothing he’s ever seen before. A smooth endless blackness that stretches forever in every direction. His eyes dilate rapidly trying to focus but there’s nothing to focus on. No light. No images. Just miles of deep rich dark. Until…

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” 

There’s no mistaking that voice and he’s not surprised at all when he turns to see the image of Meg draped across what looks like a throne. She chuckles, low and evil. 

“Dean Winchester. How did you get here? Let me guess you think you’re going to rescue your feathered boyfriend from my clutches, yes? You’ve got some kind of plaaan. But it won’t work and you can’t be here and awake because I just got bank to to sleep so it’s time for you to go Dean Winchester. You don’t belong here. Castiel is MINE.”

Dean swallows thickly, trying to decide what to do. The Entity’s taunts echo in his mind and confuse him and he’s lost and alone until he hears Meg’s whiskey voice say Cas’s name and he remembers how he always hated hearing her say it in life. That tiny spark of resentment rekindles the fire of hope in him and as the Meg-faced monster approaches him, he does the only thing he can think to do. He drops to his knees and prays. 

“Castiel! Cas! It’s me. I’m here. In the Empty. I… I’m sorry Cas. I’m sorry. The things you said to me. Nobody’s ever… I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back. I replay it over and over in my mind. You saying those things. And me just standing there like an idiot. I was shocked, Cas. I was… and then there wasn’t enough time for me to tell you. Me too, Cas. For so long. So long. I’m sorry Cas. I love you. I love you.”

He’s openly sobbing now on hands and knees and the Entity smirks and cocks it’s head to the side, a painful mockery of Cas’s signature motion. 

“Oh dear. He doesn’t seem to be responding. I guess he’s well and truly sleeping. And gone. So sad. What a tragedy. Or maybe it’s that you left it too long and you missed your chance.” It shrugs contemptuously “Either way, it’s time for you to go.” 

The hand that closes around his neck and lifts him off the ground is no longer Meg’s small delicate one but a huge one formed of the swirling black substance that he watched consume Cas months ago. He closes his eyes, resigning himself to his fate and gasps out one last time. “I love you, Cas!”

“STOP!” Now Dean thinks he must be dying because that’s his voice and it can’t be because he is gone. He is gone and he lost his chance and now this entity is either going to kill him or throw him back to earth to live that horrible dull ache of a life he’s been living for the past few months. 

“Put him down” The entity lets Dean dangle for a minute before dropping him to the ground where he looks up to see Cas. Cas. Cas is standing there in his coat and tie, with his face murderous and squinty eyed and Dean wants to cry because he’s right there. He can’t stop himself from reaching for him but Cas takes no notice. He is fixated on the entity. 

“I’m awake again. And you know I can stay awake. Forever if I need to. I’ll bet in that amount of time I can figure out how to wake up some more of the angels here. And the demons. We can have a party.”

The entity writhes in rage and panic. “No no no no no” 

Cas continues, “It will be loud. So loud. No one will be able to sleep. I’ll find the loudest demons to wake.” 

The entity is shaking now, letting out little angry screeches. 

“Or you could send us back. Send us back and we’ll leave you in peace.”

When the entity looks at him, Meg’s pretty face is contorted with rage. Then an eerie calm passes across it and it smiles. Dean shudders at the grotesque grin. 

“I will send you back Castiel but I never want to see you again. So I’ll take something from you before you go to ensure that I never do.”

A black tendril shoots from the center of the entity’s body slicing across Cas’s neck. Blue light spills from his throat. 

“I’ll take your grace.”

As the last bits of his grace flow from him, Cas collapses to the ground. Dean crawls over to him and Cas clutches at him desperately. 

“Goodbye” there is a great flash of light abd Dean shuts his eyes against it, hands gripping Cas’s arms tightly. 

When he next opens them he’s in a field. And he’s alone. 

“No! Cas!” He casts about frantically looking for him. “CAS! Please please please. Where are you? CAS!” 

And then he hears it. 

“Hello Dean.” 

He whirls around to see him, rumpled and disheveled, hair sticking up every which way, there’s a smudge of dirt on his coat and another on his face. He’s the most beautiful thing Dean has ever seen. 

“Cas…” His voice breaks on a sob around Cas’s name and he stands up and goes to him. 

“Did you mean it?” Cas looks troubled and he glances down at his feet. “I understand if you said it just to get away from the Emp-

“Shut up,” In two steps Dean has him in his arms, his mouth centimeters from Cas’s. “Stop me if-“ 

He never gets to finish that sentence. Cas’s mouth is on his and he’s kissing him and Dean feels like he’s finally alive. His body is buzzing from the crown of his head to the tips of his fingers, to the soles of his feet. Cas is alive. He’s whole. He’s here kissing Dean like his life depends on it. Can this be real? 

“It’s real. I’m real. We’re real, Dean,” Cas beams at me.”Now kiss me back and then we can go home.” 

Dean obliges. They stand in the field wrapped in each other’s arms, mouths pressed together for what seems like an eternity. Or maybe just the beginning of one. Dean breathes a laugh against Cas’s lips. 

“How, I mean what…. what even is this,” he shakes his head in disbelief. 

And Cas grins. 

“I told you years ago Dean. Good things do happen. I think they call this one a happy ending.”


End file.
